


The Destination

by theauthor2010



Category: Glee
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drugs, Future Fic, M/M, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-23
Updated: 2011-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthor2010/pseuds/theauthor2010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt never imagined that he would find a ghost from his past while cutting through the park during a lunch break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost from the past.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in January. Edited.

When Kurt cut through the park, taking a walk to his favorite coffee shop, his only intention was a momentary getaway from his hectic work week. He never expected that while briskly walking through the small park he would find a ghost from his past.

The sight stopped him in his quick paced stride. That ghost came in the form of a curly haired young man sitting on a park bench, looking like the boy he'd once been in love with, but oh-so-different different. Thin and pale, he looked around with bloodshot eyes as he strummed at an old acoustic guitar. Kurt shook his head. This man was not Blaine Anderson. His curly hair was a matted mess, his shirt stained and his body undeniably frail. Kurt could see through his bloodshot eyes and sunken face that he wasn't okay. He almost dismissed the sighting as an odd occurrence, a sighting of a man that looked similarity to the boy he'd once been in love with, but undoubtedly this man was not Blaine. He almost dismissed the whole thing until those red eyes met his and the man stared.  
"Kurt," he said softly, the soft strains of music stopping.

"Oh god Blaine," he said, swiftly approaching the bench.

Blaine swallowed heavily, his eyes wide. He gaped a few times before he managed actual words. "Oh my god Kurt," he said softly, standing up and putting the guitar aside. He looked at Kurt and shook his head. "Kurt. No way." With that, Blaine leaned forward and hugged Kurt impulsively. It was something he never would have done back when they were in high school, even in those few precious months when they were dating. Blaine had never been this unrestrained. "Oh my god Kurt," Blaine mumbled into his ear, rocking slightly, and Kurt could smell evidence that Blaine hadn't bathed in a long while.

What the hell had happened?

He pulled back slowly, not trying to let on to the fact that the other man reeked. "Look at you," Blaine said with a bright smile that stole Kurt's heart all over again. It was silly. Blaine was the first in a string of many boyfriends, but none of them had ever been able to reduce him to a puddle of goo in quite the way that Blaine could. "You look fantastic Kurt. I heard rumors that you were really an up and coming designer, but I had no idea you were stationed in New York."

Kurt smiled at that, trying to for a moment forget what a state Blaine was in. He nodded. "My designs are going to be shown at the end of the year," he said, pleased with himself. "God Blaine, I can't believe it. I haven't seen you in like at least five years."

"Six years," Blaine said softly. "Yeah. It's been six years."

He seemed so specific, so firm with that little detail that Kurt's heart lurched a little. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Kurt wanted to ask what happened to Blaine, why he looked so haggard, so sickly, but he didn't have the heart to. 'What the hell happened to you?' wasn't exactly a polite way to address an ex and someone who had mentored you, and who you had loved. It wasn't a polite way to address anyone.

Kurt supposed he was staring too long, because Blaine filled in the gaps for him. "I know I'm a wreck," he said. "Life's been tough Kurt."

Kurt swallowed. "Well, um, I was just heading to Fifth Avenue Coffee," he mumbled low. "Do you want to come?"

"Um sure," Blaine said, packing up his guitar. "That'd be great."

As they walked to the coffee shop, Kurt couldn't help examine Blaine. Blaine had always been so solid, so warm underneath him when they lay together in Kurt's dorm at Dalton, but now he was too thin and shivering underneath his dirty clothing. When they entered the coffee shop and Kurt opened the door for Blaine, the other boy just shivered in relief.

Kurt walked up to the counter and ordered. He gestured to Blaine. "Go ahead," he said. "I got it."

He had a strange feeling that if he hadn't offered, Blaine wouldn't exactly have the money to pay. Something was not right about him.

Blaine ordered a plain coffee and shot Kurt a grateful smile. Kurt paid for both of their drinks and then turned to look at Blaine. "What...happened to you Blaine?" he asked, trying to phrase the question in a way that wasn't insulting to the boy in front of him. Blaine was probably one of the most perfect people in his youth and to see him like this kind of had Kurt stammering. "Did you go to UCLA like you planned?"

Blaine shook his head. "Didn't pan out so well," he mumbled low. "I mean, I went for a year."

Their coffees came and Kurt handed Blaine his. He took it, once again with that desperate look of gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks Kurt," he said softly. Kurt led Blaine over to a table and checked his cell phone. He was going to be late back to the office, but he didn't care. He would call a family emergency or something. Afterall, this sort of felt like one, the memories that seeing Blaine brought flooding back.

"Why'd you stop? I mean, if it's not too personal for me to ask." Kurt blushed, adding the last bit as he remembered that no, he and Blaine weren't dating anymore. Blaine had no obligation to give him any information. It was fascinating how six years seemed to dissipate in the blink of an eye.

Blaine shook his head. "My boyfriend Adam and I got into some trouble," he said. "Financially I mean. It screwed me over. I had to drop out. I moved across the country when my parents freaked out and I've been here ever since."

Kurt could tell that wasn't the whole story but who was he to pry.

"What about you?" Blaine asked. "How do I fill in six years of blanks regarding the Fabulous Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt smiled softly, trying to give Blaine more, in hopes of getting more. "Well I went to art school in Chicago, before I got an internship opportunity over here that was brilliant. I've been working through the industry since then, just trying to get known. I, um, I'm still in contact with a lot of people from Ohio. I...um, I'm single. Never did too good in the dating department, uh and I think that's all."

"That's really cool," Blaine said, smiling sadly and tapping on the table while he drank his coffee. He seemed nervous, as if someone had lit a spark under him and it was about to go off. He looked at Kurt with an expression of raw longing. He downed his coffee pretty fast. "Kurt, I have to meet a friend in awhile and I should go. Can we meet up maybe?"

"I'm late going back to the office," Kurt agreed, nodding. "Should I meet you at your place?" he asked.

Blaine shook his head. "No," he said quickly. "It's not safe."

"Oh well you can come to mine. Maybe around seven?"

Blaine nodded slowly. “Yes, that’d be perfect,” he said, and before Kurt could answer him, he took off.


	2. Let me help you.

Kurt got home with a bit of time to straighten up. Blaine was still the first and only thing on his mind that entire day. How could all of this have happened to Blaine? Obviously, the other boy had not given him a straight up answer and there was so much more to him, but it still horrified Kurt. He busied himself cleaning up his apartment, and soon he heard a small knock.

Blaine was standing at his door, looking just as ragged as he had that morning, but he did look as though he'd tried to conceal it a little. "Hi Kurt," he said, swallowing heavily and looking Kurt directly in the eye.

Kurt looked back. "Come in," he said.

Blaine looked at him with wet, confused eyes. “You're still a bit ditzy Kurt Hummel. You know, you didn’t even tell me your address this morning,” he said, chuckling a little bit. “Probably my fault for taking off so quickly.”

“Oh man I didn’t…” Kurt said. “How did you…”

“You’d never believe how simple it is to ask around and find out where Up and Coming Fashion Desginer Kurt Hummel lives.”

Kurt swallowed. “Yeah, I’m…doing good for myself,” he mumbled. “So sorry for giving you extra trouble Blaine.”

"This place is gorgeous Kurt," he said, shaking his head from side to side slowly. "No trouble at all. I mean, I have nothing better to do than do a little sleuthing, to be honest. I mean seriously, you did so well for yourself, I don't know what to say."

Kurt smiled, because he knew it was true, but knew that for Blaine, his successes were mirrored by some kind of inner failure.

"What are you doing...I mean, for a living?" he asked gently.

Blaine's eyes darted around and Kurt couldn't help notice his hands. His arms were thin, frail and the marks were obvious. His eyes were darting around and he looked uncomfortable as hell. "Whatever I can," he said, and it hit Kurt hard. Blaine was an addict. "Whatever brings the money in, you know what I mean."

“Yeah, I think I do,” Kurt said, choked up. “Sit down, sit down. I can’t believe that we didn’t stay in contact all that time.”

“I guess things kind of slipped out of our hands huh?” Blaine asked, looking up, and for a flash of a moment Kurt could see the boy he had loved so much. “I never forgot you, I just…I’m sorry.”

“It was neither of our faults,” Kurt said dismissively. “People grow apart, you know how that goes.”

Blaine shook his head. “I was miserable after I left Dalton,” he admitted. “I went through all that time and didn’t tell you that I loved you. I just thought it would be easier, considering the fact that I was going to school so far away and that you needed to focus on the world around you.”

“I went back to McKinley after you graduated,” Kurt said seriously. “Just wanted to forget that I – did you say you loved me?” Kurt swallowed and thought about that. It would have been nice if Blaine had told him that, considering how broken up he was when the other boy had disappeared off the face of the earth. “Oh. Well that would have been something nice to tell me, six years ago,” he said, swallowing, trying not to sound harsh.

It was funny how two boys didn’t change much in all that time. He felt like he was seventeen again and desperately in love with his hero, Blaine.

Blaine closed his eyes. "I thought my days of loving you were over," he said quietly. "Six years, Kurt, it's been six years!"

Kurt reached out and took Blaine's hand. He remembered how good it felt to hold Blaine's hand in the common at Dalton and how much excitement Blaine could give him in even the simplest touch. Blaine touched him back, eyes half closed, so excited at the touch it seemed. He flexed his arm when he closed his hand around Kurt’s. He could see the track marks and it broke his heart into pieces. "Heroin?" he asked, unsure. He had locked his eyes on Blaine and was not going to let himself look away.

Blaine nodded slowly, unsure. "It's not that bad Kurt," he said quietly. "Please don't look at me like that."

"How'd you get into it?" Kurt asked, soft. It broke his heart, so bad. He wanted to help his ex-boyfriend, so badly, but at the same time he was so afraid of opening his heart to Blaine again, especially a Blaine that was no longer his mentor and hero, his savior, but a broken man.

Blaine leaned back. "Stop being so damned perceptive," he said, sharply, and the intensity of his voice caught Kurt off guard. "Yeah, I have issues. Yeah I use here and there but who are you to come back into my life after years and call me an addict?"

Kurt reached out and touched Blaine's shoulder. He tensed under that touch. "I'm someone who really cares about you," he said firmly. “Someone who loved you too, more than you probably knew.”

Blaine looked hysterical, irrational and Kurt barely had time to think before their lips were touching.

Kurt pushed Blaine away, as much as he had dreamed about their lips touching again. Blaine looked at him, apologetic, but there was something so distant in his eyes. Kurt frowned and ran his fingers over the tell-tale marks on Blaine's arms, then lower, just wanting to touch him again. It was selfish but god, he missed him. "How long have you been addicted?" he asked softly. He looked Blaine deep in the eyes, demanding an answer to that question.

"I don't know. I’m not addicted really, just… yeah. It’s been a couple years."

Kurt sighed and took in Blaine's appearance again. ‘A couple of years’ was a pretty vague answer but he could see the years of wear on the other man. He was defeated by the sight of the boy who was his strength, his mentor, so broken.

“You have to fix this.” Kurt was not a strong person, at least in his own opinion, but he mustered up courage and a persona he once knew, to say those words. He knew that in a sense, he was where Blaine was, when the other man had been barely eighteen. “Blaine, you have to stop.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Blaine asked quickly, and then he became a much colder, harsher person. “Kurt, I came to see you because I missed you and haven’t stopped thinking about you, not because I wanted a lecture about how fucked up my life has become. I know it’s not fifth avenue fashion like your life, but it is what it is. If I could get out of it, I would have…a long time ago.”

Kurt knew that he was overstepping boundaries but it wasn’t like Blaine was a stranger. This was the kid who had given him the courage to face his demons and all of the fears he had shoved down inside. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Blaine’s lips just one more time. “Been wishing I could do that for about oh…was it six years?” Kurt asked softly. “Figured that I’d just do it, since you felt that you could too. Can I help you?”

“I don’t need help Kurt.”

Kurt got an idea. He got up and walked into his bedroom, going under his bed to find something. It was an old framed picture.

He returned to the front room and held it out to Blaine. “Do you remember this?”

Blaine took the picture and stared at it. It was his old school photo. “I remember,” he said, turning it around in his hands. “The guys used to give you such a hard time for having it under your bed. “

“It was in my locker at McKinley, before I transferred,” Kurt said seriously, “and after you were gone, for awhile. I couldn’t exactly stand to get rid of it, so I put it back under my bed. You were my courage, Blaine. You gave me the courage to stand up for myself, to be everything that I dreamed of. I honestly don’t think I’d be here, where I am, without the strength you gave me.”

With that, Kurt sat down. “So please, let me help you.”

Blaine nodded, reluctantly. It seemed that he had run out of ideas, his eyes hazy and confused.


	3. Failures upon failure.

Blaine stayed over at Kurt’s that night, showered and then fell asleep on the couch, but Kurt wasn’t exactly surprised when he woke up in the morning to find his couch empty. He calmly cleaned up, putting away the blankets and pillows that he had given Blaine. He looked around him and then got dressed for work. He would be paying Blaine a visit after work - that was for certain. Kurt knew that he was crossing lines, Blaine meaning this much to him, but he did. It didn’t matter if it was okay that he cared, Kurt cared. He wasn’t going to hate on himself for caring as much as he did.

After work he searched for Blaine.

Finding Blaine's apartment wasn't all that difficult. It was about as simple as Blaine finding him after jolting away for the first time. With a combination of Kurt's resources and just poking around the park, it lead him straight to a very dark, desolate area and an old apartment building that proclaimed, “Oakwood Apartments” on a broken down sign. Kurt shivered as he entered the apartment building.

It was a bad neighborhood and suddenly Kurt felt very uncomfortable dressed in his work clothes.

"Hi," he said to an elderly woman, as she passed on his way in. "Do you know what number Blaine Anderson is in?"

She laughed at him, and shook her head. "Fucked up little boy's in 301. By the looks of you, he owes you money. Unless you got a gun on you, that sonofabitch isn’t paying up though, I betcha anything.”

Kurt’s stomach turned and he walked up the rickety stairway to Blaine’s apartment number. He wouldn’t be caught dead taking that elevator.

Blaine was less than happy to see him. After three knocks, he didn’t open the door. Kurt frowned. “Blaine?” he asked softly.

The boy opened the door. He looked worse than he had when they first met up. His eyes were red and he looked as though he had been crying. “Fuck, Kurt, I thought you were-“He took one look at Kurt’s appearance and dragged him inside by the collar, roughly. “My god Kurt, haven’t you been living in New York long enough to know not to come to places like this looking like mugger bait?”

Kurt had to agree, he had made a stupid move coming here dressed like he was.

“You took off,” he said, ignoring Blaine’s statement completely and moving around the apartment. The apartment was bare except for a tattered sofa and a tiny table. The red wallpaper was peeling, revealing the wood paneling underneath.

“I had to,” Blaine said softly.

Kurt looked at the pictures. There were only two in the whole room. One hung on the wall, a picture of the Dalton Academy Warblers. Sadly, that seemed to have been Blaine at his prime. The other, sitting on the table, was of Kurt. Blaine followed Kurt’s gaze. “Sometimes you were my courage too,” he mumbled, awkwardly. “I didn’t want to leave Kurt, but I was…pressured.”

“I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“I had to…get out. I can’t get help Kurt okay? I loved you, I missed you and I am so happy to see you, but those days are over.”

“How much money do you owe?” It was kind of heartless of Kurt to ignore Blaine’s words, but he had to be firm with the other man. “The woman downstairs seemed to think that I was someone coming to collect. Does that happen often?”

“Ignore Bertha, she’s psycho,” Blaine said softly.

“How much?”

“I don’t even know,” Blaine snapped. “A couple hundred to one guy, twelve hundred to the next, I don’t know it’s a huge pile up of thousands and thousands of dollars and I don’t have the money to pay what I owe. Basically Kurt, you’re not safe here.”

“Then come home with me.”

“Kurt!”

“I’m being serious Blaine,” Kurt said, sitting down and picking up the picture of himself. He was younger, less confident, but now he was going to take control. “You put away the needles, stay with me, and I’ll give you the cash you need to pay your debts.”

“I can’t…”

“You can,” Kurt countered, crossing his arms.

Knowing it was probably being aggressive and pushy, Kurt still followed Blaine when he walked into the bathroom. Blaine stood in front of the sink, turned it on and washed his face. Kurt stood behind him, looking into the cracked mirror and all he could see was the reflection of two men; one man who had lived his dream, standing behind a man who’s dreams were currently lying on the ground. “Blaine,” Kurt whispered, feeling so much pity for the man in front of him that he didn’t know what to do.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, turning around and leaning on the sink with his elbows. “I – it’s so much money, for one thing. You can’t do that. Second, I’m a loser who could never do anything to repay you Kurt. I mean that. Even if I cut the drugs out of my life completely, I’d still be a loser. I didn’t just get into them for fun. I’m a failure, at everything I do.”

Kurt touched Blaine’s shoulder. “Explain?” he asked gentle.

Blaine sighed deeply. “I sucked at school. I sucked at trying to get into the music business, so when my boyfriend offered me some stuff, I went for it. It made me feel good and less like strangling myself. He abandoned me for some whore he knocked up though. I have failed at everything I have done since I left Dalton Academy – career moves, relationships. I am a complete nobody, plain and simple, Kurt.”

“Ditch the drugs and the debt and you’d be a lot better off.”

“You do not want to know half the things I’ve done to try,” Blaine said harshly.

Kurt winced as he thought about the implications of that, but instead of saying another word, put both of his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and leaned down and kissed him again. He had missed Blaine so much. He just wanted to kiss him, over and over, despite the fact that he had so many problems. “Blaine. I’m bringing the cash tomorrow. Give me a number and I’ll get it to you. You pay everyone you owe and don’t buy a thing. You then come to live with me. Am I clear?”

Blaine looked around. Kurt followed his gaze and could see the signs of his addiction, in the bathroom, all of a sudden. Broken syringe, discarded needle, the boy was a goddamned mess and Kurt Hummel was taking action right now.

How many times had Blaine been hurt? How many times had he been assaulted? What horrible, awful things had he done for drugs? Could he have some horrible disease? Kurt panicked a little bit, but when Kurt panicked, he took charge of everything. He was taking charge now.

“Alright Kurt.”


	4. Far from the worst thing.

Blaine could not believe Kurt.

He was a nobody, a loser, ridiculously worthless and yet Kurt had given him thousands of dollars without blinking an eye. Blaine had honestly loved Kurt as a child, but had never known that the attraction was mutual in any way. Yeah, they had dated, but they had barely dated before it had fallen to pieces. Blaine had always assumed that the intense, passionate love that he had for Kurt was something that Kurt could not ever reciprocate.

Now he wasn't so sure, but did Kurt share the intense longing and love or did the other just boy pity what Blaine had become?

He was in his apartment. Once he paid Salazar, he was out of the biggest trouble. Blaine owed the dealer a thousand dollars and his life was seriously on the line for that one. Salazar had made all the typical threats of a New York dealer- murder ("I swear, you don't pay up and they won't be able to identify you in the morning"), and of course rape ("I get my money back, kid, even if you're blowing every guy on my list to pay it"), but the difference was that Blaine knew firsthand his capabilities. The girl who lived below him, she had been his client too.

Blaine was always scared for his life, or worse. What on earth had his life become? It was ridiculous.

It had been hours since his last and he was sick to his stomach. It used to be easy to go without, but now he started to get sick within a few hours of his last dose, especially with the crap he had been buying. He shut his eyes and tried to stop thinking about his discomfort. He lay down on the couch and put a hand over his stomach. Ugh. His head was hurting and he felt gross, shivery.

"Open the door fag," came a familiar accented voice.

Well there it was, there was the confrontation that Blaine was waiting for. He got up and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, for what wasn’t the first time in his life. This time however, he was sober enough for it to faze him. “I got your money,” he said, firmly.

The man stepped into the room and lowered his gun. The drug dealer, known as Salazar, sort of ruled the area. He had a dark expression permanently etched onto his face, long dark, greasy hair and he was constantly threatening Blaine. Blaine wasn’t usually this terrified. “Is that so?” the man asked, gun back in his belt, crossing his arms. “Go ahead, show it to me.”

Blaine had hid the rest of the money Kurt had given him, but he had the money for this man right with him. “It’s all there,” he said, thrusting the money into the other man’s hands. “Every bit of it. It matches your tab exactly.”

He counted the money, slowly, and then put it into his jacket pocket, before shoving Blaine into the wall behind him. Blaine’s head hit hard and he shut his eyes to ward off the dizziness. “Where’d you get this kind of cash?” he asked. “Whoring yourself out behind my back? Cause I won’t take that. You only whore around when I tell you to whore around.”

Blaine stopped, shivering a little bit. “I’m not whoring around. A friend loaned me money.”

“Nobody’s gonna give you money,” he said shoving Blaine into the wall, “not unless they’re fucking you. Don’t try and fool me or you’ll end up dead.”

He ground tight up against Blaine and Blaine pushed back. “Get the fuck off of me Salazar,” he hissed. “I paid you, now get out.”

“Now come on,” he said, stroking a hand down Blaine’s chest. “You know that it never ends with that. You pay me, I give you what you need, it’s our little cycle.”

Blaine shook his head. “I don’t need anything.”

His head whipped to the side as the man struck him. “I swear to God I’ll fuck up that pretty face if you’re buying from someone else.”

Blaine had bought from others, behind his back, but now was not the time to think about that. He swallowed and shook his head. “Nobody else,” he said softly. “Nobody else, man, I just can’t right now okay?”

The man fisted a hand in his hair. “I’ll be back, kiddo. Two days. You’ll be begging for me or else I’ll make you beg.”

He turned and left, leaving Blaine a mess, crying, but at least he’d gotten out of it unscarred today, except for the slowly forming black eye.

Too much crying never worked out, for Blaine, but his stomach was starting to twist and he sobbed into his hand. He had tried this before, just stopping, cutting the drugs out of his life but they wreaked havoc on his body every time he even thought about quitting. He leaned against the wall and waited for the horrible feelings to let up, just a little, so he could even think of dragging himself over to Kurt’s place. He had the rest of the money Kurt gave him put away in a bank account, so that he wouldn’t be robbed, so his apartment was bare of anything important. He had to get out of there.

He got up.

The walk to Kurt’s was a longish one, but Blaine needed it to clear his head. He still hurt, a lot. He was hot, all over and yet cold deep inside, and sweaty. He shook his head and tried not to think about the horrible things that were starting up and how bad they had become in the past before he cracked. He couldn’t crack this time or he would fail Kurt. Failing Kurt was the most terrifying thing in the world.

He got to Kurt’s door and stared at it for a good five minutes before knocking. Nobody was there.

Blaine sat down, sinking against the wall. He wrapped his arms around himself. It was mostly in his head so far, he had to calm down.

It took about twenty minutes for Kurt to come walking up to the door. “Blaine?” he asked, kneeling down slowly.

Blaine looked up. “Hi. Kurt. I…I…I paid him, the main one.”

Kurt brushed the back of his hand over Blaine’s cheek, where the bruise was already starting to form under his eye. “Didn’t go well?”

“He’ll come back. I didn’t buy. He thinks I’m buying off another dealer. I…this is such a bad idea Kurt.”

Kurt was very calm. He took Blaine by the hand and stood back up, helping him up. Blaine was uneasy on his feet but he got back up and looked Kurt straight in the eye. Kurt sighed deeply. “Come in,” he said softly. “We’ll get you something for your face and then we can eat dinner together. You’re also staying here. We can get your stuff tomorrow.”

Blaine swallowed. Kurt’s condescending tone was making him sick to his stomach. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t say anything though because he felt sick. To add to the condescending nature of what was going on, Kurt took a hand and touched Blaine’s cheek and then his forehead. “How long has it been since…you know?”

“Like four hours,” Blaine said, while his mind supplied ‘four hours and fifty minutes, actually.’

“You’re already feeling some withdrawal symptoms?” he asked. “You’re sweating and shivering a bit.”

Blaine wanted to say, ‘no shit, are these symptoms?’ but instead followed Kurt into the apartment and sat delicately on the couch.

Kurt vanished for a moment but came back with a blue ice pack wrapped in a paper towel. “Your eye looks awful,” he said.

“It’s far from the worst thing that someone’s done to me.”

Kurt winced a little and Blaine knew he had been blunt, but he didn’t care. A black eye wasn’t something that was going to faze him, but he held the ice pack to his face anyway. Kurt sat down next to him and Blaine couldn’t help the words that were quickly sobbed out, “It already hurts so much Kurt. I can’t do this.”


	5. A voice.

Blaine wasn’t surprised to come home the following day to a completely wrecked apartment, but Kurt seemed absolutely shocked. “Oh god Blaine, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “This is why you put most of that money away in a bank account, isn’t it?”

Blaine nodded, slowly. “Yeah it was,” he said. “I knew that he’d come back, I just didn’t imagine that soon. He came back to see if I had any more cash or drugs from another dealer on me. He should know I’m not that dumb to leave them in this hell hole.” He looked around. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing here he could have stolen.”

He moved to the side of the tattered sofa to pick up the picture of Kurt. “Shit,” he said aloud. The frame was broken and the glass, shattered. He carefully removed the picture from the frame. “Well maybe I keep a few valuables, but nothing that can’t be replaced huh?” He coughed. He really wasn’t feeling so well, at all, but he tried his best to keep quiet about it.

“Is there anything I need to clean up?” Kurt asked.

“Um you can check the bedroom but nothing in there, I don’t thi-“

Blaine rushed to the bathroom, nausea hitting him in waves. He barely made it to the toilet before he got sick, retching, tears springing to his eyes. It was starting, like it had every single time before, but this time he had someone right outside the bathroom door holding him accountable. He could not describe the way that his heart was beating and his head was spinning.

In a few moments, he felt the presence of another person in the bathroom and of Kurt’s body pressing against the back of his. Kurt very gently pulled back the hair directly in his face. “Blaine, we’re getting you a haircut,” he said lightly, and Blaine knew that Kurt was just trying his best to comfort him with the light conversation. “I never knew your hair was so curly.”

Blaine chuckled, choking as he flushed the toilet. “Dalton and their stupid uniform policy,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I think I’m okay Kurt.”

Fuck. He had never been so cold in his entire life.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and slowly managed to help him up. "It's going to okay in the end, Blaine," he said softly.

"No it isn't!" Blaine snapped, his heart going a million miles a minute. "Have you ever watched someone detox? I have. I watched my own boyfriend try and fail, leaving me because he couldn't get better - well neither can I! I can't Kurt, I'm scared. I am petrified.”

"It’s okay to be scared," Kurt said, walking him slowly. “It’s okay to be afraid because this is difficult. This is one of the most difficult things a person can do, but you know what? I believe in you. I believe in that person who told me to take courage, to be proud of myself –“

“That person was a dumbass seventeen year old who could have got you killed,” Blaine said, mocking himself mercilessly as the havoc began inside of his body. He was nervous, he was terrified at his heart was going to burst out of his chest. “Oh Kurt, have courage! I’m lucky that your high school bully ended up being a closeted gay dude, rather than a homicidal homophobe. Just the first in a line of fail, fail, fail.”

“Shut up Blaine.”

 

It was a long walk back to his apartment, but finally, Kurt had Blaine lying down on the sofa. Blaine curled up on his side and Kurt went to call his office. He was going to have to take a couple of personal days. Blaine could not be left alone in this condition. It would be difficult to get the time without explaining much but he would do it for Blaine. Blaine meant more to him than he cared to believe. Getting Blaine through this addiction and back to the star that Kurt knew he was, that was the key.

When he returned, Blaine was still curled up in a ball, shivering, eyes shut tightly. Kurt leaned forward and ran a hand through his sticky curly hair.

"Kurt," Blaine said quietly, tears in his eyes. He was sweating, shivering and burning up, his skin hot underneath Kurt’s flat hand. "Kurt, I know you want the best for me but I can't. I'm already too far...far gone. It h-hurts. I'm so cold and hot and I c-can't."

Kurt swallowed and knelt down by the sofa. He stoked Blaine's sweat slicked hair back off of his face. He was still gorgeous, handsome, even after years of self-abuse. "Blaine," he said firmly. "I believe in you, even if you don't believe in yourself."

Blaine coughed. "Kurt, it's not belief anymore..."

Kurt kissed his cheek. “It’s definitely belief, because I believe in you.”  
Blaine opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and unfocused. "Kurt, why do you care so much?" he said softly. "You were the one who encouraged me to leave Dalton and go on with my life. You're the one who broke up with me and I ... my heart was broken, as stupid as it is. My heart was broken because I wanted to stay with you forever and…”

Kurt kissed his forehead. "Blaine," he said. "What kind of boyfriend would I have been if I asked you to stay in hell hole, Ohio in order to please me? You were ready to go out on your own and do fantastic things. I had to let you go."

“Look how that ended up,” Blaine said, laughing. “I wish I had waited for you, before I took off and met my loser drug addicted boyfriend and became his clone.”

“We can never know what’s going to happen…”

Blaine rolled over onto his back. He inhaled sharply and Kurt could tell that he was terrified. “I…love you Kurt,” he said. “I wanted nothing more than to tell you that I loved you then, but I didn’t. It was the s-stupidest thing in the world to not just trust my heart and s-s-screw the consequences.”

Kurt sighed and put a blanket over the boy. He was absolutely freezing to the touch, yet sweaty and shivery at the same time. “Do you still sing Blaine?” he asked. It was a random question, one to break Blaine’s concentration from the pain that he was in and how much worse it was going to get, but Kurt was doing all that he could do for the boy he loved.

Blaine closed his eyes and Kurt was certain that he was not going to answer, but after he settled in his spot, he nodded. “I do, sometimes,” he mumbled. “It’s an easy way to distract yourself from what’s going on around you…”

“I loved your voice.”

“I loved your voice,” Blaine said and Kurt could tell that he was rambling a little in his hysteria, when he started talking about him. “You always had the p-prettiest voice. The guys at Dalton were kinda put-off by it because it wasn’t what someone expected but that’s what made it perfect. Never been religious Kurt, but your voice could have been my new religion, I swear it.”

Kurt had sung to him for awhile, some things he couldn’t remember, some he could; a Disney song, a soft lullaby, something that had put him to sleep for a little while. When Blaine woke up, he felt like death was just around the corner. His heart was beating in his chest, too hard and too fast. He opened his eyes and the world around him was spinning. He felt like he was going to vomit again. “K-Kurt?” he asked. He sat up, the aching in his body almost too much to handle. He looked around the room.

Blaine had never felt such incredible pain in his whole life. Every muscle in his body was tense and also felt like it could spring into action on its own at any moment. He felt like he was going to puke again and his body was on fire. The heat was so bad that he was sweating buckets, but at the same time he was shivering hard. Kurt had gone to the bedroom for a few minutes and honestly, Blaine was glad to be alone. It was one of the hardest things to do, being vulnerable in front of someone and Blaine was being very vulnerable in front of someone that he had long ago let go of. Kurt wasn't part of his life anymore then all of a sudden he became the biggest part of his life and who he was.

He sat up and his head spun. There was nothing worse than the way that he felt. He was going to die like this before he "got better." Even if he got better, what was the point? He was just a loser, a screw up and not worth a thing. He screwed up everything good that he ever had and he absolutely hated himself. He despised himself and who he was.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Kurt called from the other room. Blaine heard his voice, an angel’s voice and he could not help the soft shudder that passed through his body. He was so hot, his entire body heated up with an invisible flame. “I’m coming Blaine.”

He turned his head, lying on his side. He closed his eyes, dizziness passing over him. He looked over and saw Kurt approaching. He gave the other boy a tiny smile. Kurt knelt down. He had a glass of water in one hand and used the other to touch Blaine on the forehead. “You’re burning up,” Kurt said with a loving tone of voice that made Blaine hurt, because god, he was not worthy. “I need you to drink, okay?”

Blaine nodded and took a small, pained sip from the glass that Kurt held to his lips. Even the minimal amount of water did not sit well in his stomach at all, made him positively sick. He closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t throw up. He lay perfectly still, focusing only on physical sensation, touch. Kurt’s fingers ran through his hair, fingers so delicate and perfect. While he was no longer singing, Kurt hummed to him lightly, hands still there. Blaine tried his hardest to breathe.

“Kurt, did you sleep any?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Kurt said. “But I will Blaine, don’t you worry about me.”

But, Blaine did worry about Kurt. He knew that because of him and his tendency for utter failure, Kurt was suffering. Kurt was missing work, missing sleep and missing thousands of dollars because Blaine was a failure.

He was glad to see Kurt asleep when he woke up from another fitful phase of unconsciousness but it hurt so bad and the word failure was playing in his head over and over and over again.

Failure.

Loser.

Just another gay kid succumbing.

Blaine got up on shaking legs, looking at Kurt. Kurt had fallen asleep on the floor, curled up on his side. Kurt didn’t need any more of his burden.

Blaine walked out.


	6. Savior.

When Kurt woke up, he could not remember falling asleep. He rubbed his eyes and turned to his side. His back hurt badly, the muscles completely stiff from lying on the floor. He let out an uncomfortable moan and looked to the sofa. Oh god. Blaine wasn’t lying on the sofa. Okay, that meant that he went to the bathroom to throw up again, or to take a shower. Kurt sprung up, groaning in pain at his body’s reaction to that chore. “Blaine?” he called out loudly.

He entered the bathroom and there was no sign of Blaine at all. “Oh god,” he said low. “Blaine!”

There was no sign of a departure, no note, no anything. Panic rose up in Kurt’s chest. Blaine couldn’t take the pressure of detoxing, could he? Kurt frowned heavily, trying not to think of it in those terms. Blaine had not quit, given up or run away.

Kurt realized quickly that his old hero worship of Blaine Anderson not quite died yet. He was betrayed, but most of all, he was worried. He got his keys and immediately went down to look for Blaine. He focused intently. He was living in a gigantic city and looking for a drug addict with no means of contacting or locating him. The chances of him finding Blaine were slim to none.

Worrying about Blaine returning to his apartment and the waiting hands of his dealer, Kurt went there first. He knocked on the door, a little frantically, but there was no answer. “Blaine, I swear to god, if you’re here…” Kurt said low, as he frantically knocked but after five minutes he realized that there or not, nobody was coming. He turned and headed for the park.

Blaine wouldn’t be as stupid as going to the park where they’d met again if he was looking to hide, but Kurt wasn’t sure that he was looking to hide. If Kurt knew Blaine, which he hoped he still did, he knew that he wasn’t trying to get too far away from Kurt.

He was right. He found Blaine almost at the same exact spot, but this time he had no guitar in hand and was hunched into himself, head on his knees. When he looked up at Kurt, met his eyes, he seemed cool and in control of his body again – he had used, obviously, and the fact struck Kurt in the chest.

“Blaine, why the hell did you go?” he practically screamed at the man.

Blaine looked up into Kurt’s eyes. “I had to go,” he said calmly. “Kurt, you and I want different thing and are from different worlds now. I really do love you but I can’t kill myself like that, I can’t endure…”

“Where’s the courage in you Blaine?” he asked. “You can make it, I swear it, you can.”

“I said no.”

Kurt looked at Blaine, studying his face when the handsome boy said no to him. He knew that drugs were crowding Blaine’s mind, his judgment, but Kurt could not be that sappy guy who collapsed at the feet of his childhood love. If Blaine was going to get through this then he had to be strong.

“Are you coming back home with me Blaine?” he asked.

‘No.”

So Kurt turned away, swallowing down everything that he wished he could do and say.  
-  
Blaine did not move for awhile. He was so high that he barely blinked when Salazar got in his face, his stench and the fear and intimidation so familiar, it was like seeing an old friend again, highly expected. “Why look who it is?” the man rasped, pressing himself up into Blaine, so that Blaine was leaning back against a concrete wall. “It’s my favorite faggot. I knew that I’d see you again. Where have you been Blainey? I had a couple of guys check out your place, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’ve been staying with a friend,” Blaine said, a calm smile on his face that quickly crashed into a pained look, when he thought about Kurt. Oh god, he had failed Kurt, outright denied the help that Kurt was handing him and he hated himself and who he had become now. It was ridiculous what he was doing. What did he have now aside from the potential of being raped or worse? He was so stupid.

Salazar's massive body loomed over his smaller one. With one movement, the man ripped Blaine's head back, pulling him by the hair. Blaine looked up into his eyes. "You're high as kite now, aren't you?" he asked, breathing in Blaine's face. "I can see it in your eyes. Who've you been buying from pretty boy? Tell me."

Blaine remained quiet so Salazar pulled his hair and used his other hand to pull a knife from his coat pocket. Blaine could feel the sharp point stabbing into his side. "Who have you been buying from pretty boy?"

"Marcus."

The point stuck into his skin. He shuddered.

"Alright, fag, here's what we're going to do. We're gonna head back to that alley over there and I'm gonna take my payment for such a gross betrayal."

Blaine tugged back. "Please, don't."

The man tugged him right back into his grasp. Blaine could feel the knife slicing his skin. "Come."

He had no choice but to follow. He took two steps and then Salazar lurched forward. He had been kicked in the back. Kurt bounced back and when Salazar flipped around to find the source of his attack, Kurt kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain and Kurt circled him, leaving himself in between Blaine and his attacker. "I would leave us be if I were you," Kurt said softly. "I've already called the cops and honestly, I think that I could take you. Me, a little queer with no more practice than his cheerleading squad could take you down, weaponry and all."

Kurt spoke loudly and Blaine realized that he was intentionally attracting a crowd. People were starting to stop in their spots, look at the altercation that was appearing in front of them. "I would run," Kurt suggested.

Like the weak, horrible person he was, Salazar ran.

Blaine crumbled to his knees and Kurt immediately leaned up against his side, helping him back up. “You’re bleeding Blaine,” he said softly, and Blaine barely glanced down to the small cut, which was leaking blood. He shrugged it off.  
Kurt smacked him in the face, lightly. “Blaine Anderson,” he said sharply. “Come on. We’re going home and cleaning you up and you’re going to get better. I swear you are. You were almost raped today because of your stupid habit and I’m not going to see that happen to you again. We’re going home, to our home.”

Kurt was rambling a little, probably more for himself than Blaine, but Blaine found it oddly comforting. He let Kurt lead him along, knowing that once he came down from the buzz that was still circling through his veins, he was going to be very upset and deny this – but he wanted help. He wanted to get free of this vicious cycle and the horrible things that happened to him before, after and during his attempts to break it.

The trip to Kurt’s apartment was like floating through New York City, hazy and desperate, clinging to Kurt’s side and letting Kurt guide the way. It was amazing to Blaine that Kurt was so soft and small and yet at the same time was one of the strongest people he would ever know.

Kurt was so, so very strong. “You’re amazing,” he mumbled as they were inside.

Kurt rolled his eyes and laid Blaine down on the couch. “Stop it,” he said. “I am not. Blaine, you have to swear to me that you’re going to get clean. I can’t wake up and find you gone again. We have to do this, together. It will save your life.”

“I swear Kurt,” he said. “I can’t let this kill me and I can’t let horrible, horrible things happen to me again. I have to get clean.”

“Swear you will.”

“I swear it.”

Kurt smiled, and the smile took off some of the edge. Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine and Blaine kissed back desperately. Kurt pulled away though after a second. “I can’t let myself fall too hard Blaine,” he said honestly. “But you’re safe here. You’re always going to be safe here.”

Epilogue

Kurt Hummel was beautiful. The moment that Blaine first laid eyes on him, he had been ridiculously charmed, enchanted in a silly ‘love at first sight’ kind of way. He was such an obvious spy that it was cute and melted Blaine’s heart. The entire Warbler’s performance was suddenly dedicated to this beautiful, beautiful boy. Then, when Blaine had found out more about Kurt and all that he went through, it wasn’t something so childish and magical anymore – but it was still love.

He had practically died then and there when Kurt said yes, to Blaine asking him out on their first official date. “What took you so long?” Kurt asked, hand on his hip.

“Wait, why didn’t you ask?”

Kurt had smirked. “You’re older, wiser, Blaine.”

Blaine laughed, wiping some of the blur from his eyes, but still, everything was so hazy. “Do you remember the first time I asked you on a date?” he asked Kurt, leaning a little bit closer to the man, who was sitting at his side and running his fingers through Blaine’s hair.

Kurt had been singing to him again, before he passed out and started dreaming of high school. Something he remembered, Defying Gravity. It had made his cold, aching body warm up and had reminded him of how deeply in love with Kurt he had been. “Of course I remember,” Kurt said, chuckling lightly. “You mean the first real date right? Not the this-is-so-not-a-date dates.”

Blaine nodded. “That date, when we went to the theater and dinner,” he said. “I was so nervous to ask you and finally admit that it was a date.”

“You certainly took your time,” Kurt mumbled.

“Well,” Blaine said coughing, “I believe I defended myself then.”

“Once again, older and wiser,” Kurt teased.

“Not so much on the wiser,” Blaine said, sadly.

Kurt sighed and laid a hand on Blaine’s forehead. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Some,” Blaine mumbled. “Hallucinating stopped though, now I’m just having very vivid dreams of us.”

“Yeah, I was getting a little scared when you clung to my hand and started calling me an angel.”

“Kurt, you are an angel, so shush.”


End file.
